


Heal Thyself

by Merfilly



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Charity Auctions, M/M, Moving On, Resurrection, Side Story, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 23:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet deals with all that Ironhide's current status and new future mean for him, and more, to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heal Thyself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mmouse15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmouse15/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Patronus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/220321) by [femme4jack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme4jack/pseuds/femme4jack), [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly). 



> Written for mmouse15's donation to the Somalia Famine Auctions on LiveJournal.
> 
> Thanks to Femme4Jack for the beta, the story ideas that have become Patronus, and for taking me along for the ride.

Ratchet sat alone in his improvised med bay, watching the three special nutrient baths fizz around the spark cases they held. All readings indicated the sparks were in stasis, which was the best that could be hoped for, but Ratchet was taking no chances, and had immersed the cases to be on the safe side.

His instincts seemed to be correct; all three spark cases had morphed slightly to allowing for ingesting the minerals and energy at a very slow rate. He only wished that the way to proceed from here was as clear.

While he had worked on bringing Dino back from the edge of extinction and tried to salvage Que, Ratchet had not had to think about Prime's discovery concerning that traitor's weapon. Even after that first rush of repairs from the battle, Ratchet had merely treated the spark cases, when delivered to him, as one more project in a long line of 'trying not to let their race die out' experiments.

Now, he had to face just what it meant.

His optics fixated on the largest of the three spark cases. That was his mate, his friend, his partner floating in a mixture that completely lacked all Cybertronian elements save that which Ratchet had painstakingly shaved down from discarded armor plates. Ironhide was dead, killed most cruelly, except no, he wasn't. The processor was lost. The memory banks were locked in Ironhide's last personal back-up, which Ratchet wanted to yell at him for, since Ironhide had neglected to back up since just after Egypt. They barely had enough parts to repair the damage done to all the fighters.

At least, without cannibalizing Decepticon parts, Ratchet amended. And, like it or not, if he was to comply with Prime's orders, that was exactly what he was going to have to do. Que and Dino had wiped out much of their stockpile, and even Ratchet wasn't certain he'd been all that successful in either case. Their injuries had been so severe, the sparks barely guttering. He had learned so much since Jazz, though, and held onto hope that the techniques had worked.

With a cycle of his vents, he stood and walked over to the tank with the largest spark case. His digits splayed wide on the outside of it, his own spark crying out over and over to the quiet pulse of the stasis-bound one.

"I won't give up, even if I lose you when you come online."

Ratchet knew that this could very well lead to an actual new mech, despite the spark being the same. A mech was experience plus spark, not spark alone. Short of forcing the integration of Ironhide's last memory dump into whatever processor Ratchet managed to cobble together, there were no guarantees at all that Ironhide would survive, or if they were merely creating a clone.

Pulling free of his communing with the disembodied spark, Ratchet turned to go start culling the Decepticon frames for parts to build his lover all over again.

`~`~`~`~`

Ratchet made a minute weld, then reached in and reconnected the wires he had been so frustrated with a few minutes prior. He would have thought this frame type would be easier to build. Ironhide's design had been a more open, larger one, but the new mech's frame was merely smaller, not radically different. It wasn't a bit like Jazz's more closed design, or Bumblebee's, or Prime's fully encasement.

However, Ratchet kept having to go back, realign, or rework whole sections of the frame. He was frustrated, cursing Mearing for the fact his one trained human assistant was nowhere in sight for helping him, and generally being miserable. At least with Jazz, he had been able to start with parts of the frame left by Megatron's vicious attack.

"Ratchet."

"Not now," the medic growled, digits working to make the connections come together.

"Yes, now."

That tone was rarely heard in private, and Ratchet let the wiring harness slip free, turning with optics ablaze at his Prime's interference. He didn't even get his dentaplates apart to snarl his irritation before Prime was right there, arms wrapping around his upper frame, pulling him away from the new mech in progress, and just holding him tightly.

Ratchet's pain and frustration and the sheer loss of his anchoring bond welled up, and he leaned hard into the Prime, vibrations starting at his pedes and working all the way up as he let go of his control on the emotional storm.

It had been too long coming, too long held back, and would be a long time before it ended, but Optimus Prime never faltered in holding him up above the swirling darkness behind it all.

`~`~`~`~`

Onlining had been slated for the morning. The frame was complete. The spark's final connections would be made then.

Ratchet's spark felt heavier than ever, just sitting on an empty berth, watching that still frame. Tomorrow would show him who this mech was. Tomorrow would begin a new journey. Tomorrow, Ratchet would get to make a new friend, but it would mean saying good-bye, in his spark, to the old one.

Prime's decision, his own input, all meant the mechling on the other berth was to be treated as a new one, given every opportunity to rise up as his own being freely. It was the right choice. Ironhide had experienced so much, and the course of the war did seem to be turning for the better. Ratchet knew that Prime had slipped clear of his human watchdogs to go finalize the points of peace with Megatron. This was to be the dawn of a new age.

"Doesn't mean I'm not going to miss who you were, you slagging piece of work," Ratchet muttered softly on the tail-end of his thoughts. "But, 'Hide... I'm going to make sure you get a solid second chance."

`~`~`~`~`

Long before the processors were fully booted, Ratchet had his confirmation that the transfer of spark case to new frame had gone well. His optics slid to Optimus Prime, and the leader gave him a very slight nod.

Ironhide's spark held the bonds forged before, which was going to make this business of not influencing the mechling all the more difficult on the members of the cohort.

`~`~`~`~`

Ratchet fully trusted Sideswipe. He even believed Prime that the frontliner would behave in his handling of Patronus, keeping things professional.

That had _nothing_ to do with why he happened to be in the training room the first time the pair sparred. He had only come in to... slag it, even in his own processors, he couldn't lie to himself. He wanted to be certain Patronus was not having the difficulties of Ironhide's training methods turned back on him unfairly.

The even tone that Sideswipe began the lessons in, though, were enough to calm some of Ratchet's worries. As the lesson progressed, it was quite clear that Sideswipe was trying his best to make Prime proud of him.

Just when Ratchet was certain he could leave them to it, though, Patronus did something unexpected, catching Sideswipe with a lucky blow. Ratchet's fans stuttered, memory showing him that very same desperate maneuver on Cybertron, pushing back two Decepticons at once as he guarded Ratchet in the process of trying to repair another mech.

//Ironhide.// The swell of pride and love was almost too much to contain, but thankfully, Patronus was busy defending from the sharper tactics of Sideswipe to notice the flush along the bonds. Some things did run spark deep after all

`~`~`~`~`

Ratchet had to immediately move to the berth nearest Jolt's once he came up out of the deep focus he had been in. The damage was severe, yes, but not outside of his capabilities.

When he had settled, he let his optics offline to rest them from the macroscopic vision he had been using to tend to the smaller tubing repairs. When he felt a cube pressed into his hand, he didn't think twice about draining it, glad for the offering. He was certain it was Optimus Prime, but when he did twitch his awareness out, it was the curious young/old presence of Patronus instead.

That made him bring his optics online, and turn his helm to see the mechling, who was standing nearby, watching Jolt in the deepest of self-repair protocols outside of actual stasis.

"Not your fault," Ratchet said without even having to push along the bonds. How often had Ironhide come to keep watch over someone under his command?

"I should have..."

"Slag it, mech, listen to me!" Ratchet's voice came up in intensity, but not volume. "You. Are. Not. Responsible." He reinforced this with a glare once Patronus actually looked at him. "He was in command, the device was passive until triggered, and we had no reason to suspect that kind of attack. So stuff your spark in a box over this. Not your fault."

Patronus frowned. "I feel I am," he said, with a set to his features that stirred every single feeling Ratchet could have concerning Ironhide. Ratchet, however, was ruthless in stomping on that, and treating this mech as his own being, which he did by reaching out and dragging the mechling with a strong hand onto the same berth. It wasn't about anything more than soothing, with not a thought of interfacing even crossing Ratchet's mind, impossible as it was at this point anyway.

"So you do. It's part of what makes you the best kind of mech for others to follow. Always was a part of Ironhide's skills with the mechs. He had their backs, every time, and not a one of them ever doubted it."

Patronus focused completely on Ratchet at that, his optics troubled. "A leader should. Prime shows us that all the time. It is historically accurate to say that when a leader does not, the followers cease to follow."

Ratchet barked out a harsh sound that might have been laughter, but was more than a touch bitter. "Patronus, you said it. Doesn't mean we mechs learn it, or that leading comes easy to anyone. Ironhide hated leading, good as he was. Few are both good at it, and able to do it without eventually hating the burden."

The bond flickered a little, and Ratchet was suddenly aware that he was talking to Patronus about Ironhide in past tense, treating Patronus as the rightful being to hear the tales, but also as his own mech. Patronus had picked up on that and seemed to crave more of it.

If he hadn't still been with the mechling, Ratchet would have dimmed his optics at his own foolishness. He couldn't believe he had not seen this as a way to help Patronus mature, to know whom he had been, and still keep pressing on with his own self-discovery. Instead, Ratchet tightened his hold on that broad set of shoulders.

"When Jolt is well..." Patronus pushed, tone going back to that oh-so-polite one of knowing he was on the edges of just what Ratchet and Prime were worried about.

"... or even before," Ratchet quickly reassured him. "I'd like to talk about him, with you." He then leaned in on the other's frame, and felt Patronus lean back into him, settling their weight to ease each of their weary frames. "Just don't go thinking you _have_ to emulate him, bad or good. You are your own mech!"

"A point made quite clear by now, Ratchet, but it doesn't change what I feel, especially where you or the others of our cohort are concerned." Patronus let his optics dim, secure right where he was, and feeling it was perfectly natural to rest like this.

Ratchet carefully damped down the fact that Patronus couldn't possibly know just how much Ratchet felt about Ironhide, how deep that ran, when Ratchet had guarded himself so well through all of this.

`~`~`~`~`

Optimus Prime always visited the injured among his mechs. He made a point of it, to try and ease their emotional suffering as much as he could, while Ratchet tended to their physical pain.

When he came into medical this time, finally free of the irritations of human bureaucracy and from brainstorming, as the humans called it, with Lennox, he had intended to go straight for Jolt, and see how much of Jolt's processes had been allowed back online. He wanted to soothe the younger mech so that his systems would better accept the healing.

Only, as soon as he entered the quiet bay, his optics were drawn to the pair on the adjacent berth. He wondered if either mech had intended to fall into recharge as they were. Probably not, Optimus decided, since each was counter-balanced as they sat there by the other in a more upright stance than most mechs preferred for recharge. Ratchet certainly needed the reset that it would bring. Patronus had been so busy with learning, training, and working that Optimus was certain the mechling had not adhered to a healthy recharge schedule either.

::Not so deep in that I don't feel you there.:: Ratchet's presence along the cohort was refreshed though, which reassured the Prime some.

::Did not wish to disturb you.::

::I know.:: Ratchet flicked understanding toward Optimus. He then sent a light data feed, sharing with his leader the realizations and forward progress he had made in regards to Patronus. ::I know it hasn't been long,:: he started defensively, feeling some guilt over this shift in his perceptions.

::Ironhide would be proud of you, Ratchet,:: Optimus flicked back at his medic, coming over, slowly dropping to a knee in front of the berth to look up at the medic who onlined his optics dimly. ::He always had your spark at the center of his wishes.::

::Hmph. You forget just where you stood with him.:: Ratchet managed to free his far hand enough to bring it to rest on Optimus's helm, knowing how much physical contact meant for the Prime.

::Never.:: The depth of that concept rolled into the dawn of the war and beyond, with all the gratitude and debt owed to Ironhide in Optimus's spark.

Ratchet smiled softly, sadly, and nodded. ::I can't ever not miss him. Knew that. But I also know Patronus is... a gift that I had no right to ask for. Who knows where it will go in time?::

::Indeed, Ratchet.:: Optimus regarded the peaceful mechling, and let a smile touch his faceplates, soften the glow of his optics, before he pressed once into Ratchet's touch. ::Stay with him and try to recharge more.::

::I thought I was the medic,:: Ratchet protested, faintly, but he let his optics dim fully before actively choosing recharge. It was so familiar, so easy, when all he could feel so close to him was the solid metal and fields of Ironhide returned to them in the wide-optic wonder that Patronus could be.

::And I am Prime.:: The words were soft, gentle, and encompassed all that a Prime should be to the people of Cybertron: guardian, protector, nurturer.

::Sure, pull rank like that.:: It was the last thought through Ratchet's processors before his systems turned fully down.

Optimus gave them one more fond look before moving away from the resting pair to tend to Jolt. There was something in seeing his old friend moving forward that made his own spark ease some. Living with grief mingled against such hope was difficult enough without all the complications that Ratchet had in this case.

Maybe now, things would fall into better places for them all.


End file.
